Maker's Breath!
by lisakodysam
Summary: A collection of one shots, most of which will be of a smutty nature - oh, alright, all of them will be. Chapter 5: Three young Wardens at Vigil's Keep let their hair down with booze and dirty jokes. A little slash. *sexually explicit content*
1. A fine line

**This story is dedicated to my dear friend Jen, for working so hard on my chapters, and for being a very special person! And whom, like me, is a Nate fangirl through and through!**

**This chapter has not been Beta-read, so I apologise for any errors!**

**~A fine line~**

Jeni Mahariel had quickly discovered that being the new Warden-Commander of Ferelden was not as prestigious and glory-filled as she had been led to believe. Her new home, the Warden HQ at Vigil's Keep, was a shambles. The walls were crumbling, the basement kept caving in, and she and Seneschal Varel had a veritable mountain of tedious paperwork to go through.

Once the Wardens had cleared the darkspawn from, and sealed off, the basement, Jeni had decided to use it for storage, and there she sat, trying to take an inventory. She'd already been down there for close to four hours, and didn't seem to have made a dent in the sheer amount of useless crap the Wardens had at their disposal.

Three large wooden crates stood piled high against a wall. She decided to take stock of them and then call it a night. She reached for the uppermost crate, hoping it wasn't too heavy. As she hauled it down to the floor, she realised that the crates had been concealing a large, metal door. Suddenly excited that something vaguely interesting had happened, she dragged the other crates out of the way and studied the door.

It was quite a work of art, in a grim sort of way. It was made of cast iron, and appeared to be extremely heavy. Its border was studded and further embellishments of twisted cast iron ran in two thick lines spanning the upper and lower sections of the door. The architrave was also made of cast iron, and was embossed on either side with the Howe family crest, as were most of the fixtures and fittings at Vigil's Keep.

A huge, rusted padlock prevented ingress. She took out the lock-picking implements from her belt and set to work. After successfully picking the lock, she removed the padlock and turned the knob. She heard the latch click but the door was either jammed, or too heavy for her to push open. Looking around for something to help, she remembered the crowbar she'd used to open the crates, retrieved it, wedged it firmly between the door and the architrave, and pushed against it with all of her might.

She felt the door give a little, and pushed again, worried that the crowbar might snap. After several attempts, the door finally groaned open, revealing a pitch-black chamber. She grabbed a torch from one of the wall sconces in the basement and stepped inside. She could just make out what at first appeared to be a bed…_no, not a bed_, she thought. _What __**is **__that?_

She walked closer, feeling apprehensive without knowing why. As she neared, a small exclamation escaped from her throat as she looked down at what she had previously thought was a bed.

_I've seen one of these before_, she thought. _At the Arl of Denerim's estate. Yes, Bann Sighard's son was chained to it…some kind of torture table. A…rack?_

She felt along the wall with her hand and placed the torch into one of the sconces. She exited the room and brought three more torches in, leaving the basement in near darkness, but lighting up the chamber. She stood at its centre and looked around in horrified awe.

It was a torture chamber, containing not one, but two racks; a spiked metal chair, two metal cages suspended from the ceiling; and on the floor sat a foot press, a Scottish boot and a headcrusher.

Jeni shuddered and walked over to the far wall, the entire length of which was dotted with hooks, from which hung various other implements: thumbscrews, nipple clamps, rope, whips, riding crops, pliers, tongs, stilettos and daggers; all perfectly preserved and oiled.

Thankfully, there were no traces of blood anywhere. The chamber and its implements were spotlessly clean, and had obviously been a source of pride and joy to someone. Her attention turned to the daggers, some of which were exquisitely crafted. She took a particularly beautiful one and turned it over in her hand.

"Found Father's old 'rumpus room' did you?"

The dagger clattered to the ground as she span around, startled.

"Nate!" she cried, clutching her stomach. "You frightened the life out of me!"

He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms folded. "I haven't seen this place since I was a teenager," he said quietly, looking around the chamber. "Still exactly as I remember it," he added, with a strange smile on his face.

Jeni picked up the dagger and returned it to its place. "Your father let you come in here while he…"

"Oh yes," replied Nate, walking towards her. "He thought it would be a good education for me. I found it quite fascinating, actually."

"Fascinating?" asked Jeni, taken aback. "In what way?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong," he replied. "I didn't have the stomach for some of the more…intensive sessions. But I was always interested in some of the men's reactions to the punishment they received. I remember this one man who had committed a minor offence of some kind. Father told me to use this on him," he said, removing a riding crop from a hook.

He swished it through the air, the noise causing Jeni to jump. "They stripped him of his leggings and smallclothes and lay him face down on the rack," he remembered, "and I had to obtain a confession from him. I started off lightly at first – may I demonstrate?" he walked behind her and tapped the back of her legs with the crop.

"Like that, you see? That didn't hurt, did it?"

Jeni shook her head and smiled.

"Well, I didn't get much of a reaction from that, so I…just come over here for a minute." He led her over to the rack and motioned for her to bend over it.

"Nate, I don't know…" she said hesitantly.

"I just want to demonstrate. You can tell me to stop at anytime," he replied with a grin.

"Alright," she said as she bent over, watching him like a hawk. "But you're going back in that cell if you hurt me."

He moved closer to her and whispered "I won't do anything you won't like, Gentleman's honour." He took a step back and flexed the crop. "Next, I tried a little more pressure. Like this."

He rapped her firmly across the buttocks, through her leggings, causing her to wince slightly. "See, that wasn't too bad, was it?" he asked.

"No, I suppose not," she replied. "So how did the man react that time?"

"Well," said Nate, his eyes lighting up. "Something unexpected happened. When I struck him, he made a groaning noise…almost as though he enjoyed it."

"Really?" Jeni asked in disbelief, turning around to face him.

"Stay where you are," he said firmly, turning her back around. "I haven't finished the demonstration, yet."

He took another step back. "So I decided to let him have it…"

"Wait, Nate!" she cried. "You promised not to do anything I wouldn't like!"

"And I intend to keep that promise," he replied as he hit her hard across the buttocks.

"That bloody hurt, Nate!" she cried angrily, wheeling round. "What are you playing at?"

He walked right up to her, placing the riding crop on the rack behind her, moving his hands to her buttocks. "The pleasure comes afterwards, you see," he whispered, caressing her softly. "The strike makes the skin so sensitive to touch. Don't you agree?"

He was right. Her breath came out raggedly as her throbbing skin strained to meet his achingly delicate touch.

"You see," he murmured, his own breathing now irregular to match her own, "a fine line exists between pleasure and pain. Shall I demonstrate again?"

Jeni took a deep breath. "Yes, please," she said quietly, and turned around again.

"I think," Nate said, "that the demonstration will be more effective if I strike bare skin. Your leggings are deadening the sensation. May I?"

Jeni nodded her head slowly, as Nate gently pulled down her leggings, leaving her panties where they were.

"Ready, Commander?"

She nodded and braced herself, yelling out as he delivered three fast, hard blows to her bare skin. She bit her lip and sobbed as tears sprang into her eyes.

"Shh," Nate said softly, helping her to stand and turn around, once more gently stroking her tender skin with one hand. "A fine line also exists between tears and laughter," he whispered, as he brushed her tears away with the other hand. "Would you like me to stop now?"

He stood very close to her now, and she could feel his hardness pressing against her pubis. "No," she said softly, "but no harder than that."

"I am not a barbarian, my dear Commander. I will leave no lasting marks on your beautiful skin." He left the room for a moment, fetched on old blanket from out of one of the crates, and laid it across the rack. He lifted her onto it so she sat on the edge, and removed her boots and leggings from around her ankles. Her hands went to her tunic and she lifted it above her head. She wore nothing beneath.

His eyes took on a hungry look as they travelled down her body and back up to her face. "This behaviour is highly inappropriate for the Commander of the Grey," he intoned seriously. "As your second in command, I hereby relieve you of your duties! _I _am now the Warden-Commander of Ferelden, and you shall address me as such! Is that clear?"

"Yes, Commander!" she replied, grinning widely as he helped to swing her legs up onto the rack.

"Onto your front!" he commanded, to which she complied. He ran his hand slowly down Jeni's back and skimmed over her swollen cheeks, eliciting a moan from her. He withdrew his hand and began to remove his own clothing, letting it fall to the floor. He stood in front of her, engorged, and, using the riding crop, brushed a stray strand of blonde hair away from her face.

"So who's going to relieve _you _of command, Nate?" teased Jen.

He climbed up onto the rack and straddled her buttocks, leaned down and yanked her hair, forcing her to look at him. "Did I give you leave to speak?" he growled, "and you will address me as Commander!"

"No, Commander! I'm sorry, Commander!" she replied contritely, with a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Now to finish my demonstration," he said, parting her legs slightly so he could kneel between them.

"For insubordination, just now, and for conduct unbecoming a former Warden-Commander, I sentence you to a dozen lashes! Have you anything to say in your defence?"

"Nothing, Commander!" she replied. "I deserve everything I get!"

"Very well," he said solemnly. "May the Maker have mercy on your soul."

"It's the Creator, actually," she corrected with a grin.

"Silence!" he boomed and raised the crop into the air, bringing it down with a little less force than before, taking care not to hit previously struck areas.

She grimaced and lurched forward with each stroke, her knuckles turning white as she grasped the edge of the rack.

Her punishment complete, Nate removed the clip from his hair and shook it loose. He leaned in close to her, and trailed his hair slowly down her back and buttocks, then back up again. Jeni moaned loudly as he reached the nape of her neck and planted a soft kiss there.

"Do that again, _please_, Commander!" she pleaded.

"Very well, as you bore your punishment with such grace," he replied, and once more dragged his hair down the length of her body, her inflamed and tender skin crying out for its featherlight touch.

"Again, please!" she begged.

"Enough!" he cried. "_I _am giving the orders here! Now, get onto your hands and knees, at once!"

"Yes, Commander!" she replied, and enthusiastically carried out his orders.

He leaned over her back and whispered into her ear, "now, for one last punishment, at the Commander's discretion."

He clutched her belly with one hand, and with the other reached between her legs and parted her, placing his throbbing member at her sopping wet entrance.

"Do you accept your punishment?" he growled.

"Nate…please…!"

"That's _Commander_ to you!" he yelled furiously, and drove himself into her hard, causing her to throw her head back and yelp. He grabbed her long, blonde hair and pulled her towards him, steadying himself with his other hand. The feel and friction of his flesh pressed against her tenderised skin set her ablaze, exquisite pain and longing surging through her.

Nate continued to thrust as he straightened up and placed the riding crop between Jeni's swollen lips, holding it at both ends. She ground herself against it and felt pressure building in her hips. Nate, sensing her imminent completion, pulled the crop inward and moved in time with her, concentrating and forsaking his own pleasure for a moment. She cried out desperately and slammed her hand against the rack, the blanket bunching into her clenched fist as she collapsed.

Nate set her down and withdrew from her, finishing himself off with his hand and exploding onto her bare skin, causing Jeni to moan softly as he massaged his cool essence into her screaming flesh.

After a few moments to recover, he helped her down and they both dressed themselves. As they grinned at one another, Nate asked, "so, how long will this inventory take to finish?"

Jeni shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, the better part of a week, I expect."

Nate winked at her. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Commander."

"I'll be here," she grinned.

**~The End~**


	2. A well deserved gift

**This story is dedicated to the wonderful voltagelisa, one of the finest authors on the FF site, in my opinion, as well as being a lovely person. Sorry it took so long, Lisa, hope you like it! :D**

**To Jen, my awesome friend and beta reader, thank you so much for everything, I'm so happy to know you! :)**

**O~~~~~~~~O**

**~A Well deserved gift~**

Redcliffe village had been saved from the undead hordes that had assailed it each night for the past week. The Grey Wardens, Bann Teagan, Murdock and Ser Perth had all been instrumental in Redcliffe's deliverance; the Grey Wardens especially, as they had entered the Castle and slain the demon responsible for the attacks, although they had done so at the cost of Lady Isolde's life.

Ser Perth, Commander of Redcliffe's Knights, sat in the tavern atop the hill, nursing an ale, as he reflected on the events of the past few days. Patrons slapped his back or shook his hand as they came and went, and offered congratulations and thanks, which he modestly shrugged off. Ser Perth was very highly regarded in the village; as was Murdock, leader of the Militia, but the two men could not have been more different.

Ser Perth was softly-spoken, thoughtful, intelligent and quiet. Not everyone's idea of a Knight at first glance, but those who underestimated him often paid dearly, as he was a fearsome warrior. He wore a rare and magnificent suit of Chevalier's armour, fashioned from veridium and jet, with the head of a dragon embossed on the breastplate. An enormous, jagged-edged sword was slung over his back.

He was handsome, and the women of Redcliffe admired him, but he was never propositioned. His face was long but well-proportioned with a strong chin and cheekbones; his skin was a creamy ivory with a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He wore his auburn hair long at the back and slightly shorter at the sides, and a small goatee framed his mouth.

He looked up briefly as a woman entered the tavern, which was an unusual sight. Some of the regulars in the tavern seemed to know her and they greeted her politely as she entered. She sat down next to the bar a couple of stools away from Perth. He could see from the corner of his eye that she was looking at him, but he kept his eyes firmly on his ale. He was bashful around females, and had only ever lain with one woman.

"What are you drinking, Ser Perth?" the woman asked. She obviously knew who he was, and although in Ferelden, women did not normally buy drinks for men, that particular custom had been abandoned since Redcliffe had been made safe; in fact, Perth hadn't bought himself a single drink since the victory.

"Oh, um…I already have a drink, good woman, but I thank you for the offer," he replied politely, casting a quick glance in her direction as he spoke. She was petite and slim, and wore a simple cotton skirt and bodice in cream and maroon. Her hair was dark brown, worn in an ornate braid, and her eyes were dark…blue perhaps?

"Another ale for Ser Perth, please, Bella," the woman said to the proprietor.

"Of course, Molly," Bella replied. "And the usual for you?" Molly nodded.

Ser Perth smiled shyly as he thanked Molly. "If anyone else buys me a drink today, I shall become the village lush instead of the Commander of its Knights," he quipped, raising his glass in thanks.

"And what's wrong with letting your hair down a little?" Molly asked with a grin. "You deserve it after saving the village."

"In that case," Perth replied with a grin, "you really should buy a drink for every man in Redcliffe."

Molly stood up, moved over to the stool next to Ser Perth, and sat down. "Don't say that too loudly," she whispered to him. "My funds don't stretch that far. Although, there are…_other _ways for a girl to earn a few bob," she said with a wicked grin.

Ser Perth's eyes grew wide. "You mean you're…"

"Does that offend you?" Molly interrupted, fluttering her eyelashes.

Ser Perth felt himself break into a sweat. "Erm, no…not at all…" he stuttered. "H-how you make your living is y-your own business."

"You could make it your business, if you wanted to," Molly said quietly.

Ser Perth gulped and grasped the back of his neck. "Are you suggesting that we…"

"Oh, yes," Molly purred. "In fact, for you, brave Ser Knight, there is no charge."

"Um…I'm not sure," Perth replied, his face growing red.

"Don't think about it," said Molly, placing her hand underneath one of his greaves and stroking his leg, "just do it. Life is so fleeting, as we have all learned this past week. We should seize every opportunity that comes our way. Especially the pleasurable ones."

Ser Perth felt a tingle run down his back as she stroked his leg, and wondered how it would feel for her to stroke the rest of him. "Very well," he replied with a shy grin. "You are correct, no doubt. I accept your gracious offer."

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Is there somewhere we can…meet?"

_Not at the house_, he thought. "Yes, we could meet at the windmill. Nobody is about at the moment, and I have the key. I will go on ahead, and you could join me…shortly?"

"A fine idea," Molly replied. "Off you go, then, Ser Knight. I shall join you in 15 minutes."

Ser Perth drained his mug and settled up with Bella, who watched him leave with a knowing smile. She had seen this scenario played out many times over the past few years, and knew exactly what they were up to.

O~~~~~~~~~O

Ser Perth locked himself in the windmill and began to remove his armour, placing it carefully against a wall in the corner. Before long, he stood in nothing but his leggings and the holy symbol of Andraste on a leather cord around his neck.

A knock was heard at the windmill door, startling him. A feeling of sudden dread came over him. _What if one of the villagers wants to get in here? What if it's Bann Teagan? How will I explain myself?_ The knock came once more.

"Who is it?" he said quietly.

"Molly," came the reply.

Relief flooded through him as he let her in and hastily locked the door behind her. He turned around to see her smiling at him with admiration, and his breath caught as her eyes travelled up and down his body.

She took a few steps toward him and placed her hands on his chest, running her fingers through the thick hair. "What a beautiful red your hair is," she grinned, softly squeezing his firm pectoral muscles. "I wonder if it is the same all over?"

"It is," he replied with a grin.

"We shall see," she replied, moving her hands to his waist as she began to unlace his leggings.

He watched as she went to work and, as his eyes travelled up to her face, he realised how beautiful she was close up. He placed his hands on her waist and leaned in for a kiss.

"I'm sorry, Ser Knight," she said, with a cheeky smile, leaning back, "kisses cost money."

"Then I'll have to owe you," he replied and pulled her close, letting his lips softly brush against hers, then, bringing his hands up to cradle her face, he drew himself deeper in. Her hands stopped unlacing his leggings and she wrapped her arms around his waist, sighing and whimpering softly at the unexpected tenderness of his kiss.

His hands reached round to the back of her head and he started to unbraid her hair, occasionally stopping to stroke the back of her neck, as they continued with their lingering kiss. He gently pulled away, leaving her breathless, and moved behind her, removing pins and slides from her hair and dropping them to the ground, as he completely unravelled the braid and stroked it down its length.

Then, moving her hair aside, he started to unlace her bodice, trailing slow, soft kisses down her neck and further down her back as he uncovered more of her skin. He let his bottom lip rest against her back and slowly dragged it up to her neck, inhaling deeply as he took in her smell. There was something so familiar about that scent, just a hint of rose and mallow, and he murmured softly to himself as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, pulling her sleeves off her shoulders and down her arms. She pulled her arms back as he did so, freeing her arms and breasts from their bonds of clothing.

"You've done this before, haven't you, Ser Perth?" Molly purred as he reached inside her skirts and pushed them down around her hips, taking her panties with them, and let them fall to the floor. He gallantly took her hand as she stepped out of her skirts and turned to face him.

He took her hands and walked her over to a pile of hay that lay on the floor. She bent her knees and lay back, pulling him down to lie alongside her.

He gazed at her as his hand trailed along her hip and onto her belly, its touch whisper soft. He moved to her breast and stroked it with the back of his hand, the fine, tiny hairs on her skin standing on end, straining to meet his achingly gentle touch. Molly's body trembled and she lay back fully, closing her eyes and exhaling raggedly as she felt his weight come upon her, his thigh between hers, softly pressing against her centre.

Her hands grasped his shoulder blades as he nuzzled her neck, leaving gossamer-light kisses in his wake. One hand moved gently through her hair, while his other grasped her hand and intertwined their fingers.

He positioned himself fully on top of her, his thigh moving hers apart, and a gasp escaped her lips as she felt his hardness press into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him ever closer, and felt her body melt away to nothing as he moved down to her breast and tantalisingly hovered just above, his warm breath setting her nerve endings ablaze.

"Please…!" she gasped, and cried sharply as he planted the softest of kisses on her aching nipple. "Please!" she begged once more, and, grabbing his hair, pushing herself up to meet him; his hot, wet mouth on her at last, gently sucking and tugging, sending bolts of heat down to her glistening core, which ached, almost painfully, in anticipation of receiving him.

"No…" she whispered, pushing herself up onto her elbows, dizzy and disoriented as she sat up, and turned him onto his back. "I am here to do _you _a service, Ser Knight."

He closed his eyes and smiled languidly as she released him from his leggings. "You _are _red all over!" she said delightedly, stroking his beautiful auburn pubic hair. "And I see your almighty sword is ready for battle!" Ser Perth laughed and held his arms out to her, taking her hands as she brought one leg over him and hovered just above him.

"You really are special, Ser Perth," she said as moved toward him a fraction, just barely bringing his manhood to her entrance. "Nobody has ever treated me with such kindness or tenderness."

His head fell back and his eyes closed, a soft murmur leaving his lips, as she relaxed her thighs and allowed him to fill her. She began to slowly rock back and forth, pressing her clit into his skin, her body racked with tiny jolts and spasms as she moved. She glanced down and delighted in his furrowed brow, his open mouth, his shaky breath. Never before had she wanted to pleasure a man so much. She felt his chest rise and fall and increased her movements to match his breathing. He brought his hands up to grasp her hips and pulled her down further, moving his own hips with her, his thrusts meeting hers.

Molly's breathing became rapid and shaky as she felt intense heat building in her. He tried to sit up but she pushed him back down. "No!" she cried breathlessly. "This is for you!"

He could no longer protest as he felt pressure building deep within him, and opened his eyes, rapidly losing control of himself as he watched her gyrate on top of him, her head thrown back and her body shaking, then jerking, as her fingers sunk deep into his flesh. He cried out, softly at first then more loudly as his body seized up and he released himself into her.

She lifted herself off him and lay across his chest. They both lay there in silence, panting and drenched in sweat. Then, after a few moments, she looked up at him and, as he met her gaze, they laughed, Ser Perth placing a soft kiss on her lips.

After getting dressed, Ser Perth unlocked the door to the windmill and cautiously looked around outside. "It's clear," he whispered, and they exited.

Molly took Ser Perth's hands and kissed him on the cheek. "Happy anniversary, my darling," she whispered to him with love in her eyes.

"Happy anniversary, dearest wife," he replied. "Now, let me take you home, where I shall give you _my _gift."

Bella saw them exit the windmill through the window of the tavern, and chuckled to herself as they walked down the hill hand-in-hand.

_See you this time next year, _she thought to herself.

**~The End~**


	3. Sten's obligation

**I really had a hard time picturing these two together, and struggled to come up with anything I was happy with, but a request is a request! Lisa – I hope we've done Sten and Alistair justice!**

**Jen – you gave me so much help with this chapter, from your ideas to your editing, I'm naming you co-writer! Thank you so much! :D**

**~O~**

"My feet are killing me!" Alistair whined as he sat next to the fire, pulled his boots off and threw them to the ground. He and his companions had just made camp on the outskirts of the Brecilian Forest. It had taken them 3 days and nights to reach it from Denerim.

He sat there, massaging his feet and wincing as sharp pains shot up into his legs. "Wynne?" he called plaintively, beckoning the elderly mage over, "rejuvenate my feet, will you? Please?" he asked, presenting her with his best 'little boy lost' look.

"Certainly not, young man," Wynne scolded. "I will not touch those filthy feet of yours until you bathe them. I can smell them from where I stand," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Aw…" Alistair pouted, "but the water in the stream will be so cold." He shivered at the thought. "Couldn't you make an exception, just for little me?"

Wynne folded her arms, glaring at him. "Your puppy-dog eyes do not move me, Alistair," she replied. "Until your feet are bathed – with _soap_ I may add, not just water – I will not touch them."

"Oh, alright," he muttered, rising to his feet and heading into the woods toward the stream.

"Here," said Wynne, thrusting a bar of soap into his hand. "Wash those socks of yours as well."

"Will you darn them for me if I do?" he asked sweetly.

"Perhaps, if you make a good job of washing them," Wynne replied.

"Right!" Alistair chirped, doubling his pace toward the stream.

"I swear he should have been named Alison instead of Alistair," a laughing male voice spoke.

"I heard that, Aedan!" Alistair called from the woods.

"You were meant to," Aedan called back with a smirk, turning toward Wynne. "He becomes more and more like a woman each day," he whispered.

"Oh!" Wynne exclaimed sharply, placing her hands on her hips. "And do you hear us women complaining and whining as he does?"

"Erm…no," Aedan said contritely. "Sorry, Wynne. It was just a joke."

"Hmph!" she scoffed, turning on her heel and returning to her tent.

Aedan turned toward Sten, who stood a short distance away, and shrugged his shoulders. "Women, eh, Sten?"

Sten glowered at him and snorted. "It is not the women here who are the problem, but the men," he stated bluntly, turning his back on Aedan.

Aedan sat on the ground, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

~O~

Supper was served; a hearty broth of beans and barley. Alistair and Aedan sat together by the fire, with Wynne and Leliana opposite them; Sten sat a short distance away from the group. Alistair made a shrill exclamation and his eyes bulged as he swallowed a spoonful of broth.

"Now what's wrong, _Alison_?" Aedan quipped.

"Hot! Too hot!" Alistair gasped, frantically rubbing his breastbone in a futile attempt to cool down the piping hot food that was travelling down his gullet. "Hot hot hot hot hot!"

"Tell me how you became a Grey Warden again, Alistair?" Aedan chortled.

"By sheer luck!" Alistair chuckled, then his face dropped a little as the laughter faded, and he stared into the distance. "Duncan…Duncan saved me," he mumbled. "If it hadn't been for him, I…I don't know…" His voice trailed off.

Aedan, noticing tears in Alistair's eyes, slapped his arm a couple of times, but said nothing. They sat in silence for a moment.

"Parshaara!" cried an enraged voice. Alistair and Aedan nearly jumped out of their skin as a huge sword was thrust into the firepit, showering both of them with sparks. Alistair dropped his bowl and desperately slapped his legs to stop his breeches from being burned.

"Sten?" Aedan cried angrily. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I grow weary of this half-man!" the Qunari roared. "He complains, he pleads, he weeps!" He turned toward a stricken-looking Alistair. "On your feet, Templar!" he commanded.

"W-what? What for?" Alistair gulped.

Sten moved closer to Alistair and retrieved his sword from the fire. "I challenge you to prove your manhood in one-on-one combat," Sten demanded. "You are honour-bound to accept."

"B-but I haven't finished my broth, yet," Alistair said meekly.

Sten reached over and threw Alistair's bowl into the woods. "Now you have finished, Templar," he growled. "Stand and fight, or I shall slay you as you sit!"

Alistair sighed heavily, and, rising to his feet, walked over to where his sword and shield lay, picking them up.

Aedan also rose to his feet. "Look, Sten," he said calmly, "there seems to have been a misunderstanding somewhere…"

"This is not your concern, human," Sten replied with finality, and walked over to a small clearing away from the tents. Alistair followed, casting a wide-eyed glance at Aedan as he walked past.

Alistair rolled his shoulders as he approached Sten with his sword and shield ready. "The rules of combat," spoke Sten, "are thus: The first to fall is the loser. Any dishonourable actions, such as hair pulling, backstabbing or biting, result in immediate forfeiture."

"So, this isn't a fight to the death, then?" Alistair asked hopefully.

"No, it is not," Sten replied, "although if the victor believes the combat was not fought honourably, he retains the right to take his foe's life, should he so choose."

"Erm…" Alistair mumbled, "j-just a minute…"

"Begin!" Sten instructed, clasping his massive bastard sword with both hands as he assumed a battle stance.

Aedan walked over as the two began exchanging blows. "Come on, Alistair!" he yelled.

Sten swung his sword in an arc, narrowly missing Alistair's head as he ducked and shoulder-charged the Qunari's belly, causing Sten to take a step back as he steadied himself. "You will need more strength than that to best the Sten!" he taunted, launching his sword in a fierce swipe to Alistair's side. Alistair yelled and clutched his side, temporarily winded, before hastily strafing to the side to avoid an overhead blow from Sten.

The force of Sten's blow caused his sword to become stuck in the ground. As he pulled it out, Alistair bashed Sten in the face with his shield, but as he brought his sword up to strike, Sten grabbed the blade and pushed Alistair backwards, almost making him lose his footing.

_He's got no chance!_ Aedan thought, panicking. "Come on, Alistair!" he yelled. "Win it for Duncan!"

"You wish to dedicate your fight to a dead man?" Sten scoffed as he and Alistair returned to battle stances. "Duncan cannot inspire you now, Templar!"

Sudden anger flashed across Alistair's face. "How dare you speak his name!" he shouted hoarsely. "Duncan was a hero!"

"A hero?" Sten mocked. "If a hero is someone who loses a battle and fails to save the life of your King, then, yes! He is indeed a hero!"

Aedan gasped at the sudden change in Alistair's demeanour. His entire body stiffened; his face blazed red and his eyes appeared to turn to glass. "You will never speak his name again!" Alistair roared, running at full pelt toward Sten, and, in a daring manoeuvre, grabbed Sten's dreadlocks for leverage as he ran up the Qunari's legs, perching his feet on his knees, and delivered several devastating blows against Sten's head with his shield.

Sten, unable to react in time, quickly became dazed, and dropped his sword as he staggered backwards. Alistair threw his sword and shield to the ground and pummelled Sten with his fists. Finally overcome by dizziness, Sten toppled back, losing his footing and crashing to the ground, throwing Alistair several feet away.

The two of them lay still for a few seconds. "Alistair?" Aedan called, running forward, relieved to see Alistair move and struggle to his feet.

"You bastard!" Alistair spat at the dazed Qunari as he went to retrieve his sword. "I'll show you the meaning of _honour_!" He walked resolutely over to Sten with murderous intent in his eyes.

"Alistair, don't!" cried Aedan, blocking his path.

"Get out of my way, Aedan!" Alistair shouted.

"No! I won't!" Aedan shouted back. "This is not you, Alistair! You're not thinking straight! If you kill him, you'll never forgive yourself!" Aedan looked at Alistair hopefully as the Templar slightly loosened his grip on his sword. "This is not you, Alistair," he repeated firmly. "You like Sten, remember? His ways are just different to ours. You won, Alistair."

"But what he said about Duncan…!" Alistair exclaimed hotly.

"They're just words, Alistair," Aedan replied. "You and I know the truth about Duncan. That's all that matters. You beat him, Alistair. He's learned his lesson."

Alistair looked over toward Sten, who was starting to stir, then glared at Aedan. "I'll be in my tent," he said tersely. "I need to calm down."

"Well done, Alistair," Aedan called after him as he stormed away.

Alistair threw back his tent flap and sat with a thud on his bedroll, causing him to wince and curse. He ached all over. He was half tempted to go and ask Wynne to heal him, but he was still too angry to risk seeing Sten again. He pulled his boots off and sank back, covering his face with his hands, exhaling through his fingers.

"Kadan…" a quiet voice spoke from outside the tent. Alistair shot up into a sitting position.

"…I have come to do you a service."

"What?" Alistair said impatiently. "What service?"

"You have bested me in combat," Sten replied. "I must do you a service of your choosing. You have only to name it, Kadan."

Still angry, Alistair scrambled forward and poked his head out of the tent flap. "No, thank you," he said petulantly. "I don't want anything from you."

"You do not understand, Kadan," Sten said solemnly. "I must perform a service for you. It is the way of my people."

"After what you said about Duncan?" Alistair cried, his cheeks burning with indignation. "You can kiss my arse!"

"As you wish, Kadan," Sten replied stoically, pushing his way into the tent. "Remove your trousers."

Alistair sank back onto his bottom, his face resembling a fish at feeding time. "I-I…I didn't mean it literally!" he shrieked.

"Then you do _not _wish me to kiss your posterior?" Sten asked, confused.

"Of course not!" Alistair gasped. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

Sten sighed and frowned heavily. "I do not understand the ways of your people," he said quietly. "You say things you do not mean. I am at a loss."

Alistair watched Sten carefully, feeling his anger drain away as he felt a pang of sympathy for the Qunari. "Well, 'kiss my arse' was meant as an insult," he explained.

"Oh, I see," Sten replied. "That is understandable. But the matter still remains of my obligation to you."

Alistair puffed his cheeks out. "I really don't know," he sighed. "The only thing I need right now is something for my aching muscles."

Sten frowned and thought for a moment. "Then perhaps I could give you a Beresaad massage," he offered.

"Erm…a _Beresaad_ massage?" Alistair asked hesitantly, as images of being pummelled to dust punctured his thoughts. "What exactly does that involve?"

"It is a service that my brothers and I performed for one another frequently when we fought together," Sten explained. "It relieves tension and promotes feelings of well-being."

"Oh," Alistair muttered, feeling a little more relaxed. "That doesn't sound too lethal."

"Then shall I proceed, Kadan?" Sten asked.

"Yes," Alistair replied. "Where do you want me?"

"On your back," Sten instructed as Alistair lay back. "Remove your trousers," he added.

Alistair pushed himself up onto his elbows. "What?" he cried. "Is that really necessary?"

"It is essential," Sten replied. "I cannot massage you through your trousers."

"Erm, alright…" Alistair gulped. "Should I remove my shirt as well?"

"If you wish, Kadan," Sten nodded, waiting patiently as Alistair disrobed, leaving his smallclothes on.

"You should also remove your pants," Sten instructed.

"My-my pants? Really?" Alistair exclaimed, a note of panic in his voice, "w-what for?"

"You may retain them for now, if you wish," Sten replied, sitting atop Alistair's thighs and shaking his head at the strange ways of the Fereldan people. "You will feel the full benefit of the massage if you relax, Kadan."

"Alright, I'll try," Alistair muttered, lying on his back and taking a deep breath.

Sten leaned forward slightly and placed his huge hands onto Alistair's shoulders. "Relax, Kadan," he advised, as he began kneading the Templar's painfully tense muscles.

Alistair took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes as Sten's hands did their work, moving down to his biceps. Sten transferred some of his weight to his hands and Alistair groaned a little as he felt the pain and tiredness lift.

Sten's hands moved onto to Alistair's chest, and this time the Qunari put the full weight of his upper body into his strokes. His fingers sought Alistair's nipples, and pressed hard against them, causing Alistair to gulp. _He doesn't know our ways,_ he thought to himself, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. _Should I explain to him?_

"Ah, good," Sten said quietly. "You are becoming tumescent."

"Tu-what?" Alistair gasped.

"Soon you will be fully erect," Sten said proudly.

"What!" Alistair spluttered. "Just what kind of massage _is _this?"

"I thought we had discussed this," Sten replied. "It is a Beresaad massage."

"But…" Alistair started weakly, his words trailing off into nothing as Sten once again applied pressure to his nipples, and shifted himself slightly so he now sat directly on top of Alistair's swollen member.

Sten sat back on his heels, shifting all of his weight onto his legs and pelvis. Alistair felt pressure against his manhood and closed his eyes as a jolt of desire convulsed his lower body.

"Take my arms," Sten said, holding his own arms out. Alistair grasped the Qunari's elbows and Sten did the same, as he began to rock back and forth.

"Maker's breath!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Is this pleasing to you, Kadan?" Sten asked expectantly.

"Erm, yes," Alistair croaked. _I can't offend him, can I_? Alistair wondered to himself. _It would be an insult to his people…_

"Good," Sten replied. "You are ready."

_Ready? For what? _Alistair wondered.

Sten lifted one leg over Alistair and moved to a kneeling position in between the Templar's legs. "I am honoured to do this service for you, Kadan," he said solemnly as he pulled down Alistair's smallclothes.

_What's he doing_?

Sten took Alistair's length in his hand firmly.

_Oh, Maker! I should stop him! This isn't right! He doesn't know our ways…_

Sten began to grasp and squeeze Alistair's shaft. His touch was surprisingly light.

_But I really mustn't offend his people! Oh, shut up and stop thinking! Oh…ooh…_

Sten leaned over and wet his lips with his tongue as he took Alistair into his mouth. Alistair's eyes flew open for a second as a strangled cry escaped his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut as Sten's tongue caressed him, moving in lazy circles around his head. Without warning, the Qunari tightly clamped his mouth around Alistair's cock and sucked vigorously, his hand gripping and pulling on his shaft. His other hand forced Alistair's legs far apart and moved to his balls, teasing and stroking with unexpected gentleness.

Alistair's hands went up to his face and his eyes flew open again as Sten increased the pace of his strokes, causing Alistair to grunt in between gasping breaths. Sten began to move his head back and forth, in time with his hand. Alistair could feel Sten licking him softly and his body tensed as powerful heat slowly moved up his legs and into his hips. Alistair threw his head back and cried out in pleasure as he desperately sought purchase on the bed with his legs. Within moments, he had completely lost control of his own body as Sten took over.

"Sten! I think I'm going to…" he warned, unable to utter the last words, as he exploded into Sten's mouth. He lay there for a few moments, gasping and utterly spent. Sten withdrew, pulled Alistair's smallclothes back up, and respectfully folded the Warden's clothing, placing the pile next to him.

"I shall bid you goodnight, Kadan," he said somberly, exiting the tent.

_Did that really just happen? _Alistair thought to himself. Realising it had indeed happened, he laughed softly to himself. His muscles now completely relaxed, Alistair lay back in his bed and started thinking of another way he could get Sten to pick a fight with him.


	4. We're going to regret this

**Just a lurid little fantasy of mine, that I am happy to share :)**

**This story is dedicated to my friend Jen4306 for her unwavering support and invaluable friendship and wisdom, which have truly enriched my life. Enjoy! :D**

**This story has not been Beta-d, so I apologise for any errors!**

"The King was going to be away for several months, so he wanted to ensure the Queen's loyalty while he was gone," Anders related to his Commander, Leigh Mahariel, who sat next to him at the dining table; and to Nate, who sat next to Leigh.

"So he went to this mad inventor bloke he knew, and told him to devise an absolutely failsafe chastity belt," the mage continued. "The inventor told him to give him a few days." Anders stopped for a moment to take another gulp of ale. All three of them had been drinking steadily into the night, long after everyone else at Vigil's Keep had retired.

"Ah!" he exhaled, burped loudly, then continued his tale. "So the inventor sends for the King when it's ready. The King examines the chastity belt, which looks pretty much like any other, except for a large hole where...you know," he said with a grin, and a lascivious wink at his Commander. Leigh grinned and rolled her eyes.

"So the King asks him what he's playing at," Anders continued with an animated shrug. "'Ah!' cried the inventor. 'I think you will find this no ordinary chastity belt, Your Majesty,' he said proudly. The inventor takes a piece of wood, about this big," Anders indicated approximately six inches with his hands. "He places it in the hole, and…POW!" he shouted, causing Nate, who had started to nod off, to curse loudly and sit up, rubbing his eyes.

"Two tiny little blades appeared," Anders continued, "and chopped the wood in half!"

Anders sat up straight and began gesticulating with his hands. "So, the King, delighted with the chastity belt, fits it to the Queen, and heads off into battle," he continued. "He returns several months later, and immediately lines up all of his Knights for an inspection. He tells them to drop their trousers." Anders paused for dramatic effect.

"And?" Leigh said impatiently.

"And," Anders said slowly, "sure enough, almost every one of the Knights had half of their knobs missing…except for one!" he said dramatically, raising his index finger. "The King's most valiant and trusted Knight, whose gentlemen's jewels were just as nature intended. The King told the Knight he would grant him any boon he wished…"

"I've heard this one before," Nate interrupted. "The Knight was unable to reply, as half of his tongue was missing."

Leigh snickered while Anders folded his arms and pouted. "I was just getting into my stride, then, Howe!" he moaned. "And I haven't heard any dirty jokes from _you_," he said emphatically, leaning over Leigh and jabbing Nate's arm with his finger.

"A gentleman would not lower himself to tell ribald jokes in public," Nate slurred, his eyes half-closed.

"We're not in public, you pillock!" Anders cried. "Come on," he challenged. "Leigh and I have provided all the entertainment, and you've just sat there dozing off. And _ruining _people's jokes," he added sulkily.

"Alright," Nate replied, sitting up straight. "I don't know any dirty jokes," he confessed, facing Leigh, "but I will ask you this: Have you ever had a beautiful and exotic bird of paradise sit atop your shoulder?"

"Erm, not to my knowledge," Leigh replied, a little bemused.

"And have you ever had a majestic eagle perched on your arm?" Nate asked.

"No…" she replied warily.

"Open your mouth," Nate instructed. Leigh complied, and Nate leaned in closer to examine her mouth.

"I bet you've had a cockatoo in there," he concluded.

Leigh gasped melodramatically, before she and Anders collapsed into fits of laughter. "I can't believe you said the word 'cock!'" Leigh howled, barely able to get her words out. Anders was laughing so hard, he snorted like a pig each time he took a breath. Even Nate, who rarely laughed at his own quips, broke into a giggle. It was several minutes before the three of them composed themselves. Anders reached over and shook Nate's hand.

"So, you didn't answer him," Anders said to Leigh with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"No, I didn't," she giggled.

"Well, if you ever have trouble remembering, darling, I'd be happy to help you out," he offered generously.

"I bet you would," Leigh replied. "You know, Anders, one of these days I'm going to call your bluff and take you up on one of your offers. I bet you'd run a mile."

"I bet I wouldn't," he said intently, edging closer to her. "How about I offer to kiss you? Take me up on that."

Leigh laughed. "You wouldn't," she teased. "Not in front of Nate."

At the mention of his name, Nate once again snapped awake. "What did I miss?" he asked sleepily.

"Watch this, Howe," Anders instructed, leaning over and grasping Leigh's face, turning her toward him.

"You wouldn't dare…" she gasped. "You…" her words became muffled as Anders' lips smothered hers. Nathaniel sat watching with his mouth hanging open. _Just how much have I had to drink? _he wondered in amazement.

Leigh pulled away, panting. Anders still hovered next to her mouth. "You taste delicious," he mumbled lustily. They stared at each other for a moment. Anders moved closer and parted her lips with his tongue. She didn't resist this time and moaned into his mouth as he pulled her into a passionate embrace.

Nate gawked at them, suddenly aware that his breathing had quickened. _I shouldn't be watching this,_ he thought, placing his hands on the arms of the chair, intending to stand and leave. The sudden warmth imbuing his loins overruled his common sense, however, and instructed him to remain seated.

Anders released her lips and blazed kisses down her neck, his free hand kneading her hip and travelling down to her thigh. "We shouldn't," she gasped. "We're going to regret this."

"Regret what?" Anders asked with mock indignation as he slowly licked up the side of her neck, causing her to moan loudly. "You're being a little presumptuous, aren't you?" he teased, moving from his chair and kneeling on the floor between her legs. Taking the hem of her skirt, he moved it up past her knees and pushed her legs apart, pulling her down onto his lap. She instantly felt his hardness through his robe.

"Nate, give me a hand here, will you?" he asked his fellow Warden, who was now fully awake and alert. After a moment's hesitation, Nate left his chair and knelt on the floor behind Leigh, moving the chair out of the way. As Anders devoured her mouth, Nate slipped his arms around her waist and softly nibbled at the nape of her neck, making her shudder and throw her head back.

Both men went to work on her neck, Anders sucking and softly biting at her throat, whilst Nate kissed and nibbled at her nape, his hands roaming beneath her blouse, just grazing the base of her breasts. Leigh took her hands off Anders and brought her arms behind her, grabbing at Nate's hair, pushing her breasts outwards, encouraging him to touch them.

Nate understood, growling into her hair as he pushed his hands underneath her breastband and slowly ran them along her tiny, pert breasts. He felt Anders' hands at work as the mage began to undo her blouse. "So soft," Nate whispered into her ear. "So perfect. Just as I've always imagined."

"You…imagine me?" she asked shakily.

"Oh, yes," the rogue murmured against her cheek. "More than you realise."

Leigh's blouse was pulled open, and Anders sighed at the sight of her. Both men helped to remove her blouse and breastband, and Anders lowered her to the floor, where they lay on either side of her, stroking and kissing a breast each. "We shouldn't…" she panted, "do this…"

"We most assuredly should not," Nate agreed, moving up to her mouth and taking her in a hungry, wet kiss. Anders obligingly moved aside as Nate climbed on top of her, and watched approvingly as Howe's hips began to move involuntarily against hers.

"I think we should continue this elsewhere," Anders stated, momentarily coming to his senses, "before Oghren comes down for a midnight snack. He might want to join in, as well."

That brought them all to their senses. Nate withdrew and helped Leigh to her feet. Anders retrieved her blouse and wrapped it around her shoulders. Leigh gathered it in her hands to cover herself up. "Whose room is the nearest?" Anders asked.

"Mine," replied Leigh.

"I thought you didn't want to do this," Nate teased softly, pushing aside a stray strand of hair from her face as he took her lips in his once more.

"I-I'm not sure," she mumbled, breaking the kiss, swaying in Nate's arms as her lust overwhelmed her senses. "I'm not sure of anything anymore."

They made their way to Leigh's bedroom as quietly as they could. She entered first, closely followed by Nate. Anders lit a few candles around the room. He was startled by the sudden slamming of the door, as Nate pushed Leigh against it and threw her blouse to the floor. He ran his hands down her body and pushed her skirt down, taking her smallclothes with it, and roughly pulled her close, taking her in a fierce kiss.

Anders' breathing became heavier as he watched them, and he felt his erection strain against his clothing. He hastily removed his robe and smallclothes, tossing them to the floor, and walked over to them. He placed his hand on Nate's shoulder, who was by now grunting into her mouth.

"Don't be greedy, Howe," he remonstrated. Nate groaned and withdrew as he began to remove his own clothing. Leigh stood with her eyes closed, dazed and barely able to stand. Anders scooped up her tiny body in his arms and carried her over to the bed, setting her down gently. He stood at the edge of the bed and removed his hairband, shaking his golden tresses loose.

"You look so different," she purred softly as the mage climbed onto the bed. He gazed into her eyes and stroked her face. "Maker, you're beautiful," he murmured softly, brushing his mouth against hers. Her breath came out in a shudder as she surrendered herself to his lips. Nate joined them on the bed and wrapped himself around her, whispering into her ear as Anders continued his assault on her lips. Leigh rolled onto her back and gazed up at both of them, stroking their faces and grinning. "I still don't think we should be doing this," she laughed.

"This is your last chance to change your mind," Anders teased, casting a surreptitious glance at Howe's cock. "Bloody hell, Nate!" he cried, his mouth hanging open. Leigh pushed herself up onto her elbows and admired Nate's impressive member, biting her lip coquettishly as she reached over to touch it.

"Oh, Nate…" she purred. "I have to have that in my mouth."

Nate groaned and slumped back onto the bed as Leigh got onto all fours between his legs and set to work with her tongue. Anders cheekily nibbled at Nate's nipple, causing the rogue's eyes to fly open. "Anders?" he cried in dismay as the mage winked up at him. Nate soon forgot his alarm as Leigh's mouth closed around his length, and he sank back once again, his eyes firmly closed. Anders ran his fingers through Nate's hair then grabbed it, roughly pulling Nate's neck back, and peppering it with bites and kisses. Nate's body began an internal argument with itself. "This is wrong," he argued, not sure of who he was trying to convince. "So very wrong…"

Anders pulled away, chuckling. Nate barely noticed, so lost was he to Leigh's ministrations. Anders slid down the bed, nodded for Leigh to move aside, and took over. Leigh discreetly slid off the bed, covering her mouth with her hands to suppress a giggle as Anders took Nate fully into his mouth and began pumping with his hand. "Oh, Leigh!" cried Nate, his one hand slamming onto the bed, his other grabbing 'Leigh's' hair. "Oh, you're…s-so good at this…"

Leigh moved round to the other side of the bed and hopped on, running her fingers down Nate's chest and nibbling at his ear. Nate, desperate for purchase, grabbed onto Leigh's shoulder. _His shoulders are very narrow, _he thought, his brow creasing. He opened his eyes momentarily and looked into Leigh's eyes, horror slowly forming on his face. "Don't think about it, Nate," she whispered, grabbing his hair and pushing her breasts against his face. Nate grimaced and moaned loudly as both revulsion and arousal swept through him. Surrendering to the arousal, he took one of Leigh's nipples into his mouth and sucked hard, crying out against her skin as Anders completed his skilful work, and took Nate's seed down the back of his throat.

As Nate lay spent and depleted on the bed, Anders sat up on his knees and dusted his hands off in a self-congratulatory gesture. "I am so good at that!" he said cockily. "His own words!" he protested as Leigh shook her head. Anders eyed Leigh lustily as he climbed over Nate, positioning himself between her legs. "And what does our fearless leader taste like?" he wondered.

Leigh closed her eyes and exhaled as Anders' hand ran down the inside of her thigh and parted her moist folds, gently stroking her swollen nub. He removed his hand and brought his fingers up to his lips, savouring her taste. "Mmm…" he growled.

Nate had started to come to, and propped himself up on his elbow, reaching over to stroke her breasts as Anders moved down the bed, nestling in between her thighs. As he plunged his tongue inside her, Nate's mouth closed around her left nipple, his hand pinching and grabbing the right. "I love you two!" she cried, grabbing their hair as her back arched and she positioned Anders against her clit. "There!" she yelled, "Oh, Maker…!"

Nate kissed her greedily as his fingers continued to pinch and twist her nipple, at the same time Anders' rough tongue lapped away at her. Her breath hitched as she felt her completion nearing. "Anders!" she cried wildly. "Inside me, now!"

Anders immediately withdrew and clambered up her body, his eyes ablaze with lust. "Whatever you say, Commander," he growled as he fully penetrated her in one stroke. His buttocks clenched tightly as he vigorously rammed her further down into the bed with each thrust. Nate felt himself stir again as he watched her muscles tense and she dug her nails into Anders' back as she came, hard, screaming.

Leigh's cry of ecstasy was all Anders needed to speed him to his own completion, and his body bucked and spasmed as he poured his cum into her. He collapsed on top of her, almost smothering her tiny body, and propped himself onto an elbow to allow her to breathe. "Andraste's tits!" he panted.

"We are so going to regret this in the morning," Leigh laughed as she wrapped her arms around her two lovers.

"Well," said Nate. "If we are going to regret it, we may as well make it worthwhile."

"I couldn't agree more with you, my friend," Anders remarked, gently withdrawing from Leigh. "May I?" he asked Nate as he reached over to touch his cock, and cast a Regenerate spell on Nate's member, which instantly hardened at his touch.

"Yes, we may as well," Leigh smiled wickedly, beckoning Nate over to her.

**~The End~**

**Thanks for reading!**


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